The Rise of a Dark Galaxy
by Omnitense
Summary: A conflict brewing between Revan's followers and the Exile's, one that Kreia and the Sith would use to destroy the Galaxy. Who will win? Where is Revan and the Exile? Does no one notice the fingers of the Sith curling around the Galaxies' throat?
1. Chapter 1

-1The Rise of a Dark Galaxy

"_And under the hills and mountains of the force there are veins, blood beneath the skin, and an apex to every thought and action that echoes and ripples to the surface_."

-"The Knight"

But below that skin, beyond the ripples and deeper still than the life's blood of the **force** there are other _forces_ and the misshapen creatures that live by the light of them. Beasts in ghostly unaware souls too old to be imagined. That they too feel ripples…hear echoes. Piercing mean noises from above that drive them to a madness. That prompt them to…

A…

**Rising**

Yadi Utomael stood on the deck of the R.S. Archangel. The old ship was a thing out of time and not unlike Yadi, himself. It was the sister ship to the old Endar Spire that burned out over Telos so many years ago. None of the ship's protocols or controls were advanced by any interpretation of the word. The hull was still bright and strong but the core soul of the ship had been worn by war. Yadi felt the wear and tear in the ship as he felt it within himself. It was old, yet it was all the Republic could spare for such a barefaced mission.

Seated ahead of Yadi was Holly Sundown, captain of the R.S. Archangel. She was full of the cheer and optimism of youth. Her hair burned a cherry red and her face was streamlined, sleek and perfect. In his youth, Yadi had an appreciation for the beauty of certain females, certainly Captain Sundown ranked high among that old list.

One of the ensigns leaned back in his chair and spoke up.

"We have arrived at Nar Shadaa, Captain."

Sundown nodded quickly.

"Excellent, maintain an orbit and signal the docking authorities that our ships will be landing as scheduled." The ensign wordlessly returned to his controls.

Sundown swiveled her captain's chair towards Yadi and gave the ancient Jedi a gleeful look of excitement.

"Are you ready, Master Jedi?"

Yadi smiled and nodded.

"As prepared as one can be for this business."

"You've never dealt with the Hutts before, have you?" She grinned.

"I confess, I have avoided them as often as I was able."

"They're not all that bad, and they're easy to read. You'll like them." She rose, looking slightly mismatched in her Captain's uniform. "I have a team of soldiers dressed as mercenaries to accompany us. Sugga the Hut has arranged the meeting in gaming district on one of his barges."

"Very well." He looked down at his aristocratic senatorial garb. "I suppose an old relic like myself would be more welcome in the guise of a non-Jedi."

In truth, Yadi fit well in his disguise. He had a look about him that was austere and rather magisterial. His short military style white hair and his sagging cheeks made him look like a very no-nonsense severe man. It was his charming Jedi smile that truly caught one off guard.

"If I was a Hutt I wouldn't want to see a Jedi." She agreed. "But I doubt he'd like talking with a Republic Captain either."

She removed her captain jacket to reveal old Cassandral spacer wear. She also pulled an eye patch out of the pocket and donned it over her left eye. Some of the ensigns were suppressing lighthearted chuckles. Yadi hid a laugh behind a grin.

Waiting at the end of the bridge was a score of Republic enforcers attired in random armor bearing all manner of blasters. The end result was preposterous. It painted a poor picture of the Republic. An outdated ship, an old Senator and a band of thugs. Ridiculous as it was, it was perfect. It painted just the sort of picture that would disarm any hostile gangster. No worries of aiding and abetting an imposing Republic would enter the old Hutt's mind. Nal Hutta and all of it's space were too remote to ever be sure of the status of the Republic, at least not any more.

The Republic was an underdog against the merciless foe of anarchy. Very few knew of it, but the Republic was silently building, creeping, springing back into life. Small deals with conglomerates lead to large deals which lead to quiet treaties and planet annexing and trade routes and Republic contracts. All of the wheeling and dealing had swollen to steady tide and the Senate was pinching every penny. The very state of this mission was proof.

It was Yadi who came to this new perennial Republic and brought the issue of a Jedi Council and Academy. It was he who unlocked the cold door to the Temple in Coruscant. It was he who started the fountains again. It was he who opened the Jedi Archives. And now, after he had learned about the wake of the One the archives called "Exile" He learned that on this planet was one who might already be a Jedi. The Republic made a quiet inquiry into it and found ties between this stray Jedi and Sugga.

It occurred to Yadi to worry about what kind of Force Adept would deal with Hutts. But even more troubling was the lack of Jedi. It was like a Republic without a Senate. Any new Republic needed Jedi. It was a safe logical assumption.

Yadi trailed behind the soldiers to the shuttle bay. The Republic would have their Jedi and it might even be in time to save the Republic…

An old Ubese knelt before a massive pile of wrinkled flesh. Glorha had been Sugga's trusted friend and operative for seven years, since he was routed out of Corellia. The Ubese rose and waved a cautious finger at the Hutt.

"Tanay enki Chesa, Sugga. Chesa. Anko ne kichi?"

The fat Hutt waved a hand at the bounty hunters that were trying to squeeze into every shadow and behind every pillar of the large apartment.

"Un kimposta…chu?" Glorha retreated to one of the corners. "Phihota."

The Hutt had barely finished muttering the word when a procession of well armed mercenaries marched passed the foyer vault and set up a perimeter in ranks. Behind them, with her own bodyguards, marched the captain of the R.S. Archangel and an old man dressed like an aristocrat.

The Hutt smiled sickly and nodded at the new arrivals. He couldn't help notice how physically perfect the female captain was and grunted.

"Achuta."

The captain made a curt bow and stepped out of the way for the old one. He surveyed his surroundings with a raised eyebrow and then rested it on Sugga.

"I am to assume that you are Sugga the Hutt?"

The Hutt leaned forward and made a bowing gesture.

"I am here, as you may or may not know, representing the Republic's interest in a slave that you hold here on Nar Shadaa."

The slug slovenly licked his lips and groaned in thought.

"Haa shag?"

"Atton Rand." The old man replied.

"Ahh, Atton."

He nodded. "Yes."

"Cha kolki makachisa, umm…thirteen."

"Will you accept ten from the Galactic Republic?"

At this the Hutt began a deep rolling laugh.

"Twelve." The Hutt spat.

"Would you accept eleven with the understanding that Nal Hutta is greatly admired by the Republic?"

The Hutt bowed again. "Kelenko." The Hutt swiveled it's head towards a dark corner. "Glorha." He belched.

The old man flinched as he watched a Ubese float in from the shadows. The Ubese was focused, thankfully, on the Hutt.

"Atton Rand." When the Hutt spoke the name, the Ubese retreated out of the Apartment, presumably to the slave quarters.

Yadi Utomael smiled inwardly and rewarded his mind by meditating one of the Jedi liturgies he had fished out of the archives. A nice flushing glow of calmness and well-being flooded his mind. He kept it under steady control so that it did not supplant him from where he was. He was still within blaster range of Hutt lackeys and without a lightsaber.

When Glorha returned, he was dragging a man in chains. The man had a light brown beard and shaggy hair. His face had one or two scars and his eyes were patient and hopeful. Yadi felt his mind and found an impressive blanket of guard that even an old master like Yadi would be proud to have. Rampant and shallow thoughts, insignificant and unimportant, were all Yadi could grasp onto in that calm controlled mind.

Those eyes took in all that surrounded him, the mercs, the old Jedi masquerading as a Senator, the cute Captain off to the side. The chapped leathered lips parted and soft cynical voice returned.

"What is all this? Sugga, what's going on?"

Glorha turned and looked him over.

"Unfortunately, my favorite whipping boy, you are being sold." He croaked in Basic. Atton's eyes cut over to meet the Jedi's. Yadi shaded his emotions with a dubious raised eyebrow. He turned his head to the Captain who responded by handing two containers to Glorha. Yadi smiled weakly at the giant slug.

"I trust that everything is acceptable and complete."

The slug incoherently groaned and gently tilted his head forward and then back.

"Excellent." Yadi looked over at the soldiers behind him. "Gentlemen."

One took the chains from Glorha and they all began to rank and file out of the apartment, the Captain being the last.


	2. Chapter 2: In the Deepest Down

-1"Hey will you at least talk to me? What's going on?" Atton whined as he was drug into the shuttle. The ramp retracted behind him a the tri-foils spread as the shuttle launched.

Inside the shuttle, Atton's chains were cut off by one of the soldiers. He rotated his wrists, amazed by the restored mobility of his hands. He looked up at the old Jedi. His eyes widened appraisingly.

"Who in the force are you?"

"I am Jedi Master Yadi Utomael." He said deadpan.

There was exactly one single Bith band tempo before the words left the Yadi's mouth before Atton started laughing. Yadi kept his composure but he could see that the laugh was becoming contagious as the Captain had to hide a chuckle.

"A Jedi…Master." Atton hooted.

"As of right now, Atton Rand, I am the only one. What I need to know is if I just bought another one with ten thousand credits or something else."

Atton stopped laughing instantly. His face was now profoundly serious.

"Oh no. You really are a Jedi Master. Only a Master could be that arrogant." He walked face-to-face with Yadi. "I saw the old Masters first hand. I guess you could say I got a tour of a lot of different Masters. I saw the damage they did and their death was the best thing that could have happened to the galaxy. Now, unlike a lot of people, I understand that it was the Masters themselves who brought it on themselves. But are you going to be another one?"

Yadi's charming Jedi smile was missing. His face filled all it's potential as a severe cold unfriendly expression. Atton had to admit that it was intimidating, like starring down an angry Kath Hound. Anger wasn't truly present, Atton noted. It was merely the absence of levity.

"The Republic needs Jedi."

Atton leaned in close. He looked a little wild with his beard and his cynical eyes.

"The Republic needs great men, not men who think they're great."

Atton stretched his hand out and Yadi flew to the shuttle's durasteel inside hull and was pinned. Atton cocked his head to the left.

"Look at the little Master trying to squirm free. I was taught by a force of nature, not a pretentious wannabe." The Captain twitched nervously, debating whether or not to get involved, obviously electing not to and signaled the soldiers to stand back.

Atton ambled over to the pinned Jedi. "Where did you spring from? Where were you in the wars? Who sent you?" Atton released Yadi, suddenly realizing how he was acting.

Yadi patiently rose and straightened his Senator's garb. He realized now that Atton carried far more scars than the few that graced his unshaven cheeks. That fortress of a mind had a tall tower and locked inside was a man who had been wronged too many times to tell friend from foe. Yadi's heart bled for him. Betrayal. It can undermine the confidence of kings and dethrone all one's trust. This man's trust was a fatality.

Atton stared blankly with canceled eyes at the spot where he had pinned Yadi. He brought his absent stare down at his hands which were once cuffed in chains.

"I'm sorry…" He muttered. He buried his face in his hands and rubbed as if trying to wash something away. "I'm very tired."

An ensign walked in and whispered in the Captain's ear. She looked over at the two Force Sensitives. "We're about to dock." She said quietly and walked up to the cockpit.

Yadi's severe face was lax and had a hidden expression of pity.

"You have quarters, food and time to think. Luxuries, as I'm sure you know. Take them, use them and inform me of your decision."

Atton nodded inattentively. The shuttle rocked as it docked and landed in the Archangel's bay. Atton turned for the hatch when Yadi's voice called out.

"And remember that we are all still human. We all have weaknesses, we all have…faults, but we fight for what we believe in."

The hatch startled Atton as it slid open. He slowly walked out into the bay followed by the host of soldiers. Yadi watched the gray jedi's every motion as he exited the shuttle. The Captain, the ensign, pilot and copilot returned from the cockpit. Holly was being pessimistic and it wasn't in her nature, but it looked like ten thousand wasted. Not that that was a huge sum for the Republic but it was a disappointment.

"Well?"

Yadi shook himself out of his reverie.

"The future is always uncertain. This man has played the villain, he has played the hero, the lover, the jedi, the sith and the betrayed. The force only knows what he will be next."

Holly's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Lover?"

Yadi nodded, more sure of himself.

"Oh yes. He has played that role for a short time and I can tell you that it was by far his favorite."

Yadi found that emotional rage seemed to lower the drawbridge on Atton's mind. He knew the man now and he was sorry for him…

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Atton was ushered into a quaint room with a bed, a table and a com panel. Expecting more from a military ship was futile, he decided. He had to admit though, he hadn't seen the like of the Archangel in many years. It was a castle among starships. Old, outdated, historic and sturdy summed the ship up pretty well.

Atton sat down slowly in the table provided. He smiled at his wrists. He still hadn't gotten used to the feeling of his bare wrists. In a way, he could still feel the cold durasteel cuffs clamped on his wrists.

But he didn't need to feel the cold. He felt the cold in his heart. He felt the emptiness. It felt like an empty cold tin can, hollow besides. The irony was that only his old master could fill the emptiness with her own.

Atton felt salty tears well up. It had been the count of an old decade that had turned sour. A decade without the Exile. A decade with only rumors. Sad rumors, tragic rumors… Rumors of new Jedi, old Masters, new Sith; it all started to sound so much the same.

Atton grabbed his head. The galaxy spun. All of it was caught up in the politics of so many head games. Personal ambition looked like charity work compared to some of the complex manipulations that were crossing space routes and jedi archives.

Darth Sepulchra…

Atton twisted his fist until his knuckles whitened and his fingernails drew blood from the palm. His face scrunched into a pitiful look of pain and his eyes rolled tears. He started to sob aloud. His mind started to whorl and for the first time in his lifetime, Attton let his mind collapse. All he had seen. As far as he had come. The anger and pain of betrayal.

He spiraled up from his chair and punched the wall of his quarters. To his surprise the wall beeped and an electronic voice responded.

"Yes, Master Jedi. Your order will be brought to your room immediately."

Atton stopped and looked at the panel he had punched. He laugh and collapsed back into the chair as he saw he had inadvertently ordered dinner He laughed even harder when his stomach growled. A smile still on his face, he shrugged at the panel.

"The force works in strange ways." He said to himself.

It was always hard for him to reconcile himself in the force. He had believed for so long in luck. Being around Jedi as long as he had, he knew there was something to them and what they could do, but he had had his own theories. For a time it occurred to him that there was some sort of secret science behind the concept of Jedi and Sith.

It was only when his blindness was healed by a savior did he understand how the force operated. Only now did he understand to the fullest…

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**-Many Thousand Lightyears away and years ago…**

Revan looked around him. He couldn't say that there was much to see thanks to the system's dim sun. In fact, the sun was so dim and so far off that, on this planet, there was barely light at all. Cold fires kept the predators off, but they were starting to die at the hands of the anaphotic forest's gentle rain. He cursed and spat. Out of the fire nearest Revan's elbow leapt a robed form. For a moment Revan refused to believe it. Revan's cold yellow eyes stared at Kreia incredulously. His jaw locked and veins bulged from his neck.

"What in the force did you do, Kreia!?" He said with a dark growl. Revan's eyes widened. "Where is Lungri?"

Kreia was there, in all her dead glory. Her long white hair, her black eyes her black robes. The force supporting Kreia's presence in that darkness, flickered. Her face was younger than Revan had seen it look ever before. Her face was full of righteous excitement. Kreia's form laughed.

"Your exile killed him." She said with a pitying smile.

Revan's eyes sparked with rage. He had had it. He was on a planet that didn't even have a name, fighting a Jedi secret that had been hidden for at least a Galactic age. He had only asked one service from the old witch. They had made a deal, dammit!

"I AM ABSOLUTELY SATURATED WITH YOUR MIND GAMES WOMAN!!! SPEAK PLAINLY!! "

Revan caught his breath and channeled his anger. He took the anger and let it achieve equilibrium in him. It poisoned his every motion and he drew in breath as if he had been refreshed. His eyes narrowed in on the remnants of the poor dead old bat. "Where is my exile?" He asked with a dark calmness.

The old woman lost her smile long enough to smirk.

"Why, I sent her, Revan."

Revan's eyes closed obviously to equalize more anger and frustration. Revan called out in a black voice.

"No, you sent a 'her' I asked for a 'him' Are you such a simpleton you didn't know who I meant? I said Lungri Nasher, you old fool!"

Kreia smiled and shook her head.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk, Revan. You said, and I quote 'Find my lost exile.'" She laughed hoarsely. "You assumed that Lungri was the one you spoke of," She paused for yet another ironic chuckle. "You assumed too much. The exile was someone you did not expect."

Revan meditated again to redistribute anger and frustration, which was mounting.

"What happened to Lungri?"

Kreia leaned back onto a barkless tree and sat next to the fire she had sprang from. The fire reflected in her black eyes as she stared ever into it. She wrapped her robed arms around knees and drew them close to her. Revan couldn't help remark how she looked like a small child. Perhaps that was why he was not surprised when the face a small teenager appeared from under the hood. Revan smiled in spite of his hate for the old woman.

"Why, she killed him, Lord Revan." Kreia's squeaky voice cried.

Revan sighed.

"It would appear that I win, Revan." Boasted the old woman as the wrinkled face reappeared.

Revan looked at her, annoyed.

"That has not yet been proven."

She laughed wretchedly.

"Well. All that has to happen for me to win is for your exile to destroy you instead of those you are fighting." She grinned horridly. "And as I understand, she doesn't seem to like you, Revan."

Revan stared after her until he smiled in revelation. His eyes gleamed crookedly and his smile coiled like a serpent.

"You lie, old woman." He paused a moment while he watched her eyebrow raise. "You trained Lungri Nasher and botched him."

"I-" She began but was cut off.

"Yes, I can see it even now." He said closing his eyes. "You were teaching him even when I was at Malachor V, before I left for this pit." Revan laughed bitterly. "I almost killed him and you stopped me. He was that tear in the force that they called Darth Nihlus." Revan sighed tragically. "So that's what became of my poor experiment. So he wasn't the exile at all, you say? This Sithly girl you've sent me is the exile, eh?"

The child had reappeared and was obviously pouting and refusing to answer.

Revan's eyes trailed off into the fire. The soft hypnotic pop and crackle of the flames were oddly soothing.

"No matter. No plan is ever perfect and I am a master at improvising." He bit his bottom lip. "This match of ours isn't over by a sight." He seethed.


	3. Chapter 3: What Remains?

-1Chapter 3: What Remains?

_Everyone is waiting for the light _

_be afraid, don't be afraid _

_the sun is shining out of my eyes _

_it will not set tonight _

_and the world counts loudly to ten _

_One _

_Here comes the sun _

_Two _

_Here comes the sun _

_Three _

_It is the brightest star of them all _

_Four _

_Here comes the sun_

Atton was in the bathroom niche of his quarters leaning over the sturdy durasteel sink. He ran the salight shaver in right hand over his cheeks. Large portions of the brown beard was slowly disappearing and his old face was slowly emerging. He had already trimmed his hair back to it's old short cut.

Atton hadn't seen a mirror in a year and more and hadn't seen his old face in a long time. So long, in fact, that he doubted he was the same man. The salight shaver produced a raw burn as it glided over his face but it was mere seconds and the deed was done.

Atton Rand stared sadly into the mirror. He tilted his head to the left. He raised his chin and gave a confident smile, but it didn't last long. His face was worn and there was gray in his hair. His face went slack. He had been right. He was no longer the same man. A chunk of his heart had been dislodged and pried away. Already the youth and light had begun to dim and fade from his features.

He felt a curse building from behind his lips. His jaw bound and tightened to release it, but it died before it was born. He couldn't even bring himself to curse her name, not even to mention it for good or ill.

He removed the hair from the sink and shoved it into the disposal chute to his right. He summoned up a handful of water from the faucet and splashed it against his stinging face.

"Master Jedi?" A voice called out.

Atton sighed. They would insist on calling him that as long as he remained on this damn ship.

"Just a moment." He called back. He grabbed a hand towel and wiped his face dry.

Upon returning into the main room he saw the cherry-headed captain holding two small sacks. He was amazed at how quickly he felt himself smile. '_old habits…_' He thought. He rushed to take the sacks from her.

"Hey, who would've known I would get the Captain as a waitress." His tired dog eyes looked up at her slyly. "Staffing problems, huh?"

The captain smiled cutely and giggled.

"Not quite. I had some spare time and thought I'd make up my own mind on you. I don't think we've been formerly introduced. I'm Holly Sundown."

Atton smirked and nodded his head.

"I like a girl with her own mind. Atton Rand." He said.

Again she giggled.

Atton was arranging, on instinct, the table and the food for two.

"What's so funny?" He asked lightly.

"Everyone here is convinced you're a great secret Jedi Master that can restart the Republic."

Atton faked injury.

"You don't think so?"

"Oh, I didn't say that. It's just that you don't talk like one."

Atton pulled out a covered plate of what looked to be Nerf steaks surrounded in thickened Khaltaa noodles and mature Alderaan lake mushrooms with a white wine sauce. There was a salad with a vague dressing that was too green for Atton's eyes.

"I got us this, to share between us." She procured a great magnum of Emerald wine. Atton had heard of it, but it was the stuff of fine dining and he was not one to be associated with fineries. It was a Goreign wine fermented using Felucian yeast and Phragmoghra fruit. Besides being alcoholic it also had a euphoric response and was slightly addictive.

She poured two glasses of the dark green wine and they finally sat across at the table. There was an odd silence to which Atton promptly broke.

"You were saying how I don't talk like a Jedi?" He reminded.

Holly had just sipped the wine and swallowed quickly to answer.

"That's true you don't. I've been hauling a sour-faced robed-one around for the last month and you don't sound anything like him."

Atton rolled his eyes.

"I think I'm a little more grounded than he is anyway. But I'm hardly a Jedi."

Atton cut off a small bite of steak and chewed it. His eyes closed and moaned in delight.

"This is delicious!" He proclaimed. She smiled.

"I figured the Hutt's hadn't given you any opportunities for a hot meal."

He nodded in agreement as he took another bite with a mushroom. Holly studied him. He was very unlike what she had pictured.

"So how'd it happen?" She asked as she forked in steak.

Atton laid his fork down leaned back for breath. He had underestimated how hungry he was.

"Pazaak, Gambling debts."

Holly almost spat out a mouthful of wine. She tried to swallow, but laughing and swallowing only got her to choke. Atton snickered and extended into the force and resolved her poor attempt at swallowing.

"That's not quite what I was asking." She laughed. ".…but, You gamble?" She cried.

"Well, I always said that if Jedi knights were so all powerful they should play pazaak."

She raised an eyebrow cutely.

"Poor Jedi or poor card player?"

He shrugged.

"Humility comes in all shapes and sizes. Even the force doesn't mean much against double-sided cards, deck stackers and cheating Huttspawn."

Holly decided to stick with the salad and stopped on the steak. Atton picked up the glass of Emerald wine. Holly's eyes cut over at Atton's expression. He brought the rim of the glass to his lips and tilted it so that the liquid it contained, brushed against his lips. He sipped in and let it settle on his tongue. The taste brought an instant smile. It tasted so green and tart in all the right places, but with a cute brutish bite.

"What I meant was, how did you become a Jedi knight?"

"Oh, that." He said, smacking his lips. He took another drink of the wine, this time sipping deeply. He set the glass back down and raised his eyes back up at the captain.

"I had jumped ship onto a fuel freighter bound for Peragus when-"

"You were at Peragus!" She interjected. "I'm sorry go on." She added.

"Anyway, they found me and locked me up in a tight force cage for being a rotten stowaway. I was there for an age and they just left me there. I heard all sorts of things going on. Blaster fire, screams, the pitter patter of mining droid feet, the automatic alarms blaring something about toxic fumes. Then, at the pinnacle of anxious boredom, in walks a half-naked Jedi woman." Atton's eyes glazed over as if remembering something so distant. "She frees me and by an by we escape together. Over the course of a year I learned from her" He shook out of his reverie and smiled at the captain. "And being a Jedi is just one of the things I've picked up."

She swallowed a mouthful of salad greens so she could speak.

"And who was this mysterious Jedi beauty?"

"Once upon a time-" He began as if he were anticipating the question.

She grinned and rubbed her hands together.

"I like bedtime stories."

Atton's eyes held a mystical sadness as if retelling some ancient tragic myth.

"There was a Jedi knight who was better than the rest. Before the council could tell what kind of Jedi she would be, before they even knew, she was snatched away by the Mandalorian Wars. She was perhaps the only survivor of the whole war. But like all war heroes, she had her battle scars. One in particular that was a deep one. One that troubled her above all else. She returned to the Jedi Council to seek aid and wisdom. She was met with fear and was rejected from the order. I was one of the few people who new her as Lierre Datho of Corellia. The galaxy knew her from then on as the Exile, and then…later…as Lady of the Sith, Darth Sepulchra."

"Lady of the Sith…" Holly mumbled thoughtfully to her salad. "I heard that she betrayed those she traveled with."

Atton's face tensed. He seemed aggravated.

"It was complicated. She didn't betray, she changed. I never thought anyone could change as fast as she did. We traveled to Korriban, she went out alone as a cheerful happy person and came back someone else. Someone who refused to listen to _normal_ people…" Atton had anger in his eyes. Someone who was…cruel."

Anxious to shift the conversation, Holly spoke up.

"Where's your lightsaber?"

Atton drank heavily on the wine and refilled his glass. He waved his hand at the question.

"I don't have one. The one I had, I stopped carrying the day she left. It was azure blue, single-hilt with a powerful thick beam. The handle was a smooth ovoid shape out of a platinum-infused titanium alloys with a Damind pearl and Correllian bead sand. I built it with my own hands on the Ebon Hawk."

"Bead sand?"

"Yeah, It's a rare, naturally-occurring glass on a Correllian island called March Island. Lierre gave me some to pack the crystals in the focusing chamber. The stuff is like tiny beaded diamonds and they increase beam strength by almost eight-hundred percent. She was the only Jedi to ever think to use them in sabers. You see, when the saber is first activated, it melts the sand together and burns away the impurities to make one huge hunk of hardened glass that focuses the beam." He chuckled. "I was a little concerned when my saber started smoking. But after the impurities were gone it was a brilliant blade."

He drank in more wine. He wasn't even eating anymore. She laid her utensils down and moved the wine bottle closer to him and out of her way so she could see him directly. This was the question she had prepped him for; the one she had to know.

"Do you think you will want to become a Jedi again and fight for the Republic?"

Atton's eyes were watery and his pupils were slightly dilated from the wine. Signs of drunkenness were showing in his features. He smiled, drunkenly and shrugged.

"Either I will or won't." He quickly sobered up enough to look depressed. "But I can tell you that I really don't have anything else worth doing…at all."

It was about a half hour before Holly left him to what remained of the wine. At the time, he was rambling and didn't seem to notice that she was leaving. She had to get away from him. Even a cheerful optimistic person such as herself could only take so much heartache off of one person and he had consumed so much wine that he didn't really care anymore.

She sighed as she rounded the turbolift to the bridge. Even as an unrefined gray Jedi, he had issues and Master Yadi would have to help him overcome…


	4. Chapter 4: Guilty in Defense

-1Chapter 4: Guilty in Defense

_Another nightmare about to come true  
Will manifest tomorrow  
Another love that I've taken from you  
Lost in time, on the edge of suffering  
Another taste of the evil I breed  
Will level you completely  
Bring to life everything that you fear  
Live in the dark, and the world is threatening_

Let me enlighten you  
This is the way i pray  


It was on the dead surface of Katarr. There were miles of barren mountains of dust and rocky windy plains of dirt. Even empty buildings dotted the surface like punctuation points in a sentence, devoid of individual meaning. They toiled neither with motion nor with life. Mere features in a crag of the galaxy bereft of sentience. Even the considerable atmosphere was cycling and emptying of breathable oxygen so that life may not even return. Only one spot cried out in defiance to the nothingness. A great circular building fraught with spires, towers and minarets. Lights glowed through the translucent dome-like ceilings of the flat building.

In taking into account the lack of a situation on Katarr, it was not hard to imagine this building being totally unknown. The only few that knew of it, were told of it. The nature of the building was a great meeting hall for the Katarr delegation of the Miraluka to the Republic. The delegation had shared the building with one of the galaxies greatest botanical gardens and vivarium that were now just empty rooms of dirt.

Vossa Reunaa was bound tightly in the novice garments of her order. They showed little but elegance, grace and a bitter icy superiority. As a novice she carried no weapon and only the hands of one trained in the Hiatma.

Her mind spun the word 'Hiatma,' it was a Miralukese portmanteau for defiance and defense. It meant the galaxy to her and it would mean the death of those who curse life. She had the smile of triumph. '_Novice no more._' She thought proudly.

The great rotunda of the Hiatma was but a door away. In it waited the order and Visas Marr. The Visas Marr that traveled with 'the Exile.' Her mind simply could not fathom traveling with the great one. To have walked by her side from world to world on that pilgrimage. Viewing all the hurt and destruction. Assessing the judgment and calculating the sentence with every stride.

Vossa forced the door open to the rotunda. She strode quickly into the center of the rotunda. She was best on all sides by the council and in front of her, poised gently in a chair, was the Visas Marr.

Her mind perceived Visas as a woman adorned in a gown of red with a banded hood that covered her eyes. She could feel, in return, the focus of Visas mind on her. She could feel Visas inspecting her from every aspect.

"I've been around the world." Came Vossa's deep voice.

She felt Visas nod in agreement.

"You have." Came the quiet whispering voice. "You've seen this planet for what it is? Then answer me one question." Vossa tightened her hand into a fist. The question that would decide her status. Through the force she saw Visas lean forward in her chair and watched her lips part as she began the sentence. "Who did this?" Came the whisper. Silence.

Vossa's mind was burning through answers in seconds. Her mind was locking, grinding, shutting down. She could not think. Answers ran from her and so she stuttered out the only word she could remember how to say.

"Sith."

Visas turned her head towards the council on the right and then to the left.

"Sith, she says!" She cried aloud. There was a murmur through the council. But Visas held a gloved hand high and silenced them. She stood up from her chair and walked forward to Vossa. She put her hand on her shoulder.

"The Sith?" She asked. "The Sith are beasts. They thirst and hunger for blood and if blood is in their reach, then blood will be achieved. They are as predictable as the twirl in the stars in the sky. No one can attach blame to a thing as predictable with so little willpower."

Vossa began to panic, tears were rolling from her sightless eyes and down past her mask. "The Jedi, then."

A smile formed on Visas mouth. She shook her head. "You have no idea, do you? The Jedi are the Sith, as are all orders and councils who follow one philosophy to disaster." Visas brought her hand down from Vossa's shoulder and wrapped it around Vossa's throat and began to gently squeeze. "I could kill you now." She whispered gleefully.

Vossa's head began to fuzz and her sight was distorting. She could only barely perceive Visas as her head began to ache.

"If I kill you…" She whispered in Vossa's ear. "Am I to blame?"

Vossa wanted to explain. She wanted to discuss. She wanted to reason it out and learn the lesson Visas wanted to teach but instead… She was beginning to pass out...

"I'm killing you now, Vossa." Visas whispered again. "Your head is aching, your vision is fading. You feel your muscles jerking. You're dying."

Vossa felt something grab hold of her mind. She grabbed Visas by both of her arms and twisted one over the other and threw her to the floor. The council gasped and stood. Visas propped herself up by her hands. Her mind was focused on the young Vossa.

"Will you kill me?" She asked calmly.

Vossa was still recovering and seeking air. The question had been proposed to her as an option.

"I've already presented a threat to you, will you kill me or allow me to stand and strike again!" She shouted.

"You may stand." Vossa said absently.

"Then help me up." Visas said shortly.

Vossa extended a hand but Visas grabbed her by the arm and held it tight in a grip that could bend durasteel.

"Think!" Visas prompted.

Vossa wanted to cry. She had hurt Visas. She deserved to di- "_No one deserves death." _ Visas asserted in Vossa's mind. Visas pulled herself to her feet and embraced Vossa in hug. Vossa began to cry on Visas shoulder and Visas hugged her tighter.

"It's alright. You're okay." Her soft whisper called out.

After reassuring poor Vossa once more Visas turned to the council.

"I say to you, Vossa the acolyte!" She called out, smiling proudly.

The council made assenting noises and stood and Vossa moved her head confusedly from one side of the council to the other… She didn't understand. She had passed?

"I propose the council dismiss." Called one member. Another assented and the Council filtered out. Vossa was still standing in confusion before Visas. Visas was focused on her with pleased curiosity.

"I don't understand?" Vossa began. Visas smiled and nodded her head.

"I know. And now that is your mission. You're not a child anymore. You can find your answer."

"But, mistress? What was the right answer to your question?" Visas chuckled lightly and brought her hand to cover her mouth.

"Right answer? You mean as opposed to the wrong answer?" She finished laughing. "The right answer was defense. The people of Katarr, we," She indicated herself with her hand. "Were to blame for it's destruction. The Jedi were not as blameless as they believed in the affair, but ultimately survival is dependant on the creature threatened."

"I-" Vossa trailed off.

"I am leaving Katarr, Vossa." Visas said sadly. "I am going to rendezvous with a Republic ship over the skies of Dantooine. I want you to accompany me, as an acolyte and a friend."

"Why me, mistress."

"I need an example of this order present. You will be my archetype. I will leave in five days so have your lightsaber constructed by then."

Vossa bowed.

"Yes mistress."


	5. Chapter 5: The Blinding

-1Chapter Five: The Blinding

_Praying for myself.  
These thoughts I try to hide.  
I have faith in me, and hope this will survive.  
But it's tearing me apart.  
I can't hear the words by which I guide.  
So I must ask again, who will carry me?  
_

It was on the dead surface of Telos' polar region. She, who gathered ice to build temples on Telos and in her heart, was standing above the dike of the aqueduct. Caught it in the cold of world of bitter frigid refusal. A refusal of death and a refusal of Jedi. The heart of the world had been torn away and a new one transplanted in it's place. The gentle nursing of Ithorian care had been pried away and the Czerka had installed mines siphoning the toxic components of the world and refining them for prophet causing even more pollution. They had stripped away the mineral resources long ago.

Only in the forbidding cold, did life exist…

Two life forms…soon to be only one…

Brianna stood above Atris, the humming red blade of her saberstaff buried in Atris' kneeling form. Tears streamed down Atris' emotionless face as she was kicked off of the dike down to the frigid depth below.

Brianna watched the fall until Atris passed from sight. Her fist clenched tighter than her saberstaff would allow, so it exploded in her grip, blowing away the right half of her polar suit. It did not take her eyes away from the pit below. Nor did it change the sneer of utter hatred from her face.

"I have done as you asked, Master." She said in her gruff voice.

She did not feel as free as she had been promised. Her existence solely depended on being able to relieve the hatred she had felt for Atris. But it burned on…

Her face sneered. She hated Atris. She_ **hated **_Atris! But now Atris was dead and yet the hate remained. It did not die as well. Brianna reached her left hand into what remained of her coat and extracted a spray stick of Kolto. She quickly emptied it on her burnt right arm and watched as the tissue began to foam slightly and regrow.

She hated Atris!

She pulled out of her coat a holo communiqué. Flipping it open revealed a dark figure manifest from blue light particles. It was a towering figure with a full rich leather robe and a great green marble mask. The mask was the wavy face of a tortured soul.

"You have done well." It said simply in a voice that was neither dark nor light hearted. It's voice was just a simple male voice but with the oddest accent that Brianna had never heard. Every 'w' was pronounced as a 'v,' every 's' was a 'z.' The accent was harsh and guttural but spoken with a soft voice slowly and carefully with dangerous inflexions. "Apprentice." It added.

"I still feel hate, Master." Brianna said, annoyed.

"Good." Brianna stared at the holo. Whatever was under that mask was smiling. She knew it! She could feel it from light-years away. She hated it! "That hate is how you will live. You will block every punch with it. You will cut every foe down with it." The thing laughed. Brianna wanted to find it. Crush whatever it was, if she could. "That hate will never ever die, my apprentice."

"I want to meet you, my Master." Brianna said simply.

"As I, you. You have much to learn, Darth Ice."

"Master?" Brianna said, caught off guard.

"Lady of the Sith." He accused. "Come to Yavin's moon. Land at Exar Kun's largest temple and we will have a long talk."

She snapped the communiqué shut and looked back down into the dike. Her eyes were moved by the deepest malefic evil but down inside was a small girl crying alone. She had become sith. It never struck her until that thing on the communiqué called her that name. That thing, whatever it was that talked like a numb-tongued Hutt, it will wish that it had never met her…

Brianna turned and started down the causeway from the dike. Littered around the edges were her half-sisters. She spared them a parting glance as she descended. She had always thought they were childish, petty and ugly. She smiled. She had proved who was the greatest among them. They were as children and as children they were thrashed aside and slain. Absolutely pitiful compared to her newfound power.

When she had reached the door she spun on her heel to see the ruins of the Atris' academy. There was nothing left. Every holocron to every lightsaber crystal had been removed. Brianna had removed the artifacts in secret before her assault. She used the manual control on the durasteel thermalock door and it wedged open.

Outside on the plateau rested her Rendili manufactured Exploiter-class personal freighter. It was dagger-shaped with a keen icy blue skin. The back spoilers and fins for water and air foil steering made the ship seem like a great sleek predatory fish. A fish that had swallowed all the remaining Jedi teachings save for the archives in Coruscant. They were to be delivered to the Master. Brianna knew that if any more Jedi were to exist then they would have to find these teachings first.

She did it because the Master wished it…and because everyone deserves at least one last wish…

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Atton was spread over his quarter's small bed. A thin blanket was draped over him. He wished he could say that he was asleep. He wished he could say that his head didn't feel that it had been splintered against the side of a rock. But he was laying on his back feeling his massive headache leak through the sockets of both eyes.

It was now painfully obvious why he didn't drink wine. Years ago it had been alright because he was young enough that he didn't get hangovers. He did his best by not moving and applying pressure to his head in the form of his hands gripping his head like a vice. And then it happened…

A loud beeping noise filled the room. Atton would have leaped out into bare space if he could. "_No noise in space._" He thought, grimly while squinting his eyes in pain. He couldn't remember Sugga and Glorha torturing him worse than this. Whoever was causing that damn beeping was pure evil.

Atton laid for a second hoping it would stop of it's own accord. But after about ten seconds he scrambled up to find the source and bash it to pieces. The noise was coming through the com panel in his room. He hit the display and the beeping finally stopped. Yadi Utomael's stern face peered back at him from the consol.

"Atton get dressed and come to the conservation deck. You're beginning your retraining as a respectable Jedi."

"Ah Mom, can't it wait five more minutes?" Atton said, groaning.

By Yadi's expression, Atton could see that he wasn't amused.

"The conservation deck, Rand." The face disappeared as the com panel faded to black.

Atton cursed and slipped into some of the common clothes the quarters held in the wardrobe. Atton didn't like the sound of 'retraining' but at the moment he didn't like how anything sounded…


End file.
